Sunday, April 18, 2010

Writing a blog scares the daylights out of me. In my 30-something years of life, I’ve come to realize how intensely private I am and reluctant to share. My one consolation is that probably nobody will read this. Even having a website feels strangely narcissistic to me. But like all artist-types, I feel the need to “express” myself. So welcome to my psychotherapeutic blog. Feel free to stop reading anytime.

If my artwork seems cryptic to you, then be consoled that it is to me, too, and that’s intensely bothersome. I’d love to declare in a crafty artist statement what it is that I do, but any attempt at verbalizing my intentions seems insincere and artificial. Like, “my artwork is about borders, walls and transitions between subconscious landscapes and the tangible world.” or “my artwork celebrates the interconnectedness-- universality of human beings, nature and nomenclature...” But that would be a bunch of bullshit.

I hate all that art-drivel. The most honest thing I can say is that my artwork comes out of my brain, down the spinal column, through the hand and onto a surface-- a visual improvisation.

A little about me: I hail from a very close-knit midwestern family. There was an is a lot of love in my family and was raised to believe that love is all that truly matters in the world. Yeah, I‘m a helpless peacenik high on luuuv.

I’ve been creative all my life and artistic pursuits of all stripes excite me beyond anything else... except for maybe food and good beer, travel and nature. I’ve been damned with a lazy constitution, however, and I am a failure when it comes to sales, self-promotion and general career development. As a consequence, I’ve had jobs in more fields that the average human. I could be a job anthropologist. Would somebody please pay me a lot of money to provide an assessment of various and sundry workplaces? Please?

Seriously! I mean it! Perhaps I belong in human resources... I’ve worked on a TV series, as a bartender, waitress, shoe salesman, in radio, with stop-motion animation, self-employed failed artist, barely-paid video editor, bank employee, temp employee and office dweeb at a large not-for-profit. I have a lot of experience in a bunch of different fields. I empathize with the underling because I’ve never been the boss. And truly the worst is working in corporate America. More on that later...